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For Bucker

Them Bucking Horses!

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I'll never forget the look on that hyena's face. Well, it ain't every day you find a man in the stables with two massive stallions, wearing a Stetson and riding boots. And nothing else.

"Howdy Marcel. You'll forgive a man for kicking things off early. But these boys! You can't keep 'em down for nothing!"

Said boys, two stallions from that evening's rodeo, sure are mighty keen to move things along. If them big beautiful erections of theirs are anything to go by. There's Chuck, a fiery young thing with a heck of a lot of mustang in him, and a huge purebred bucking horse called Clayton. I've got both horses by the reins, and I'm just about keeping a hold on them - I've spent my life around these brutes, so I know how to handle them. Most normal folks wouldn't stand a chance. I've literally got hundreds of pounds of huge, horny stallion in my paws. They're restless, snorting and a-grunting, tossing their manes and kicking up dust. It's been a roasting summer's day, and this evening's just as hot and stuffy. There's been no breeze across the plains to cool things off, and even the sunset's had little effect. And the air in these stables is thick with dust and the scent of straw. So, do you reckon I can smell them big boys? You betcha. Always had a thing for a stallion's musk, me. I breathe it in deep, murring at its heat, feeling my dawghood throbbin' in response, all out in the open, just like the stallions.

So yeah, admittedly, you don't get this kind of sight at every rodeo. But if Marcel was taken aback at first, it's a real delight to see that sharp-toothed, smouldering smirk reappear on his meat-eating muzzle.

"Clearly not," he purrs. "And looks like you're already enjoying your prize."

Oh yeah, reckon I'd best tell you about our tradition. You see, our rodeos, they're a little bit different. Sure you get the usual contests, like saddle bronc, my specialty. But us folks, 'round these parts, we love our broncs. And for the top riders, there's a special prize. To put it simple: whoever scores the highest in the ring, they don't just get the prize money and a fancy trophy, they also get to spend time with the broncs. Any way they want.

"Oh this is only the beginning. Now you're here, we can properly get started."

"By all means."

"By which I mean... you're joining us."

Another pause.

I've seen Marcel around for a while, but only recently plucked up the courage to parlay with the big guy. And he's already made it more than clear to me where his preferences lie. So it's no big surprise, to me at least, what happens next.

The hyena guzzles down the last of a beer can. He lets rip a deep belch, before he strides into the stable, that smirk of his never fading as he unbuttons his shirt. And all of us - dawg and stallions - we stand and we watch. Inch by inch, we see more of that hyena fur and flesh and muscle, more of the tone and the power in that tough carnivorous animal. Dark fur on his front, spotted fur on his back, and all of it overlaying a musclebound body, such as I could admire all night. He unlaces his boots, then next to come off are his leather chaps and his jeans, to an appreciative whoop from Chuck. And quite rightly so. The yeen's taller than me, built like a buffalo, and that sheath and balls he's fondling would put a stallion to shame. And I reckon he's hung like one too. Lucky for me I'm about to find out. Hoo boy, I can't wait.

"Oh, and one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"See how we're dressed - hats and boots? Keep yours on too."

That gets him laughing. Although he does oblige, so fair play to him. He slips his boots back on, lacing them up, but otherwise standing before us buck-naked.

"Well?" I ask of the stallions either side of me. "What do you think?"

"You want my opinion?" Clayton strokes his erection. "This is opinion enough." The bronc unhands himself, gives a horny horse whicker, and slaps his belly with his cock, flicking a few drops of horse precum all around the stable.

"Plenty," the hyena before us smoulders.

"So, Marcel, I take it you're enjoying your first rodeo."

They hyena stretches, showing off every one of his teeth as he yawns. "Oh you bet. There's great food, great beer, great company... and you boys put some impressive performances."

"Well, cheers partner. And both my boys did well. Young Chuck here's shaping up nicely. Just needs a bit more experience and he'll be golden. Today though, ol' Clayton was the bronc I wanted. And he sure put in a barnstormer of a challenge. I swear he gets more powerful every time I ride him. Sometimes he unsaddles me, sometimes he don't. But, today was my day."

"Ahem," Chuck interjects. Our day. You couldn't have got that 90 score without me."

I rub his muzzle. "Hehe, alright lil' pony. Like you need your ego stroking any more."

I still do though, for my sins. Feeling its thickness and heat. Not that anyone's complaining. Least not until I release Clayton, and leave him there snortin' and strainin' while I walk Chuck on, by the reins, so as the hyena can get a closer look at him.

"And let me say Marcel, you did well for your first rodeo. Only a few weeks' practice, and you very nearly had the measure of young Chuck here. But, he is a feisty one. And once he knows you've lost your grip, you're goin' down. But that's out there. In here, the carnivores have the whip hand."

I hand him Chuck's reins. He takes them, and fixes the stallion with gleaming eyes. Chuck stands stock still, and I swear I see him gulp. Suddenly the big yeen tackles the horse and hauls him to the ground, to an appreciative gasp from Clayton. Hyena muscle meets equine muscle, the two brutes play-wrestling, and despite the best efforts of the muscular and thrashing steed, the carnivore wins, pinning his prey and winding them reins tight around his paw, before he locks muzzles with the horse in a snarling kiss. Beasts growl, drool drips, and Marcel even brings his teeth into play, nipping at the stallion's lip. And of course I've now got a glimpse of that hyena cock, thick black flesh growing harder, and rubbing on the stallion, putting him in his place. What a sight. Clayton and I sit back on a straw bale, and I paw ma bronc while he returns the favor. By the time the beasts before us part maws, Marcel is growling, and Chuck is panting for breath.

"What do you say?" the hyena snarls under his breath. "Ready to give our friend Bucker here his prize?"

Nobody responds to that. They don't need to. Hyena and mustang uncouple from one another, before the carnivore prowls towards me, black erection leading the way. He puts his paw on my chest, pressing me backwards on the straw. And then he straddles me, lowering himself until his crotch rubs on mine. Damn he's a big yeen. I take this opportunity to admire him, and yes even run my paws over him, like I've been desperate to do for ages. And with his trim fur and all that firm muscle, I am more than satisfied. Our cocks grind together, his erection black as night and studded with these little cat-like nubs which don't scrape, but score lightly on my cut length, giving me little shivers of pleasure. He holds my sides, giving him more leverage for his grinds. And now he's drooling pre, all over my cock and my crotch, the heat and the scent of the animal filling the sweltering air, hot and meaty. What a beast. Then he rolls us both around, so he's the one lying back on the straw.

"Shift up me, dog. I ain't fucking about tonight."

He releases his paws and I do as I'm told, moving up his body. With an impatient little huff I settle in place, while Marcel reaches behind to guide his cock to the base of my raised tail. He gets me in one. And I thought the stallions were hard before. Gawddamn that hyena's packing a bone. I reach back with one paw and spread my ass cheeks apart, enjoying the feel of his bare yeen cock on my exposed tailhole. The hyena grinds a few times, leaving a mess of precum back there, before he snarls.

"Beautiful sight, ain't it boys?"

Raised, slick canine tail, with a big black hyena cock grinding all up from underneath. Yeah, I'm not surprised that gets 'em both snorting.

"Oh, and one more request. If you guys are taking my tailhole, you're rubbering up. Got a pack of horse-sized ones in my jacket. Reckon they should just about fit a yeen too."

Marcel shrugs. But trust the young squirt gets his tail in a twist.

"Ah, come on Bucker. You've got three huge guys all to yourself. You know you wanna feel them give you everything."

And then Chuck mounts me, rubbing that big horse cock all under my tail. I swear I can feel him start to flare too. He snorts and directs his bucks, right on my yeen-lubed opening, one slip away from penetrating me bare. And part of me is tempted to let him. But I growl a little, and he pauses.

"Sorry, them's the rules. There's no telling where you boys have been - Marcel in particular. But remember, I've got a muzzle spare too."

Chuck dismounts, doing nothing to hide his snorts of frustration.

"Suit yourself. But I hope you can swallow. 'Cos when I'm done, with the amount I've been building up, your breath's gonna smell of horse cum for a week."

And I'm not entirely turned off at the thought.

Clayton meanwhile has taken two of the big condoms. I glance behind me. The stallion kneels behind us and, after opening one packet, he rolls the rubber right down that impressive yeen cock. The scavenger snarls at this attention, but soon settles back down with a growl of gentle satisfaction.

"You weren't kidding about this yeen, Bucker. This thing barely fits on him."

Like the hyena needs any more of an ego boost.

With the hyena hard and ready, Clayton stands in front of me, practically brandishing his equine tool. I watch him roll the large condom over his thick unflared head, and all the way down his meaty shaft, over his medial ring, and down to the even thicker flesh around his base. He taps his flesh on my nose, and takes his station behind me. There are paws on my butt, hyena paws spreading me open and ready.

"Got some lube too, Clayton."

"Nah, don't need it."

And to prove his point, the stallion takes a big hawk, and spits directly on my tailhole. There's a sickness of rubber and flesh on fur. They're working me together, Marcel spreading me wide with paws, Clayton rubbing and smearing his length behind me. I turn back to the hyena, listening to the powerful snorts behind me, before one chance slip brings the stallion into direct contact with my entrance. There's no stopping him now. The pressure builds, thick and insistent, before the saliva-and-precum-slick horse cock pops inside and them first thick inches plow into my tunnel.

Hoo boy. That never gets old.

He gives me no time to adjust, or to catch my breath, instead getting right down to driving his horse-haunches, back and forth, back and forth, making his claim. I hold the muscled hyena underneath me, and ride that horse. I've known Clayton for a few years, so I know full well the power he can deliver. He's pure revelling in it, and he knows this is his one chance because at any moment...

"Hey Horsemeat. Hold still. I'm going in there with ya."

That almost makes me bark. The bronc does as he's ordered, the heavy sweaty horse holding still on my back. There's a paw on my side, a thrust of tapered flesh behind me, and the animal underneath me growls, showing off them beautiful big teeth. He tenses, all those packed muscles firm and solid, until he slips in, and I close my eyes, my throat scratchy and hoarse as I utter a loud moan that's drowned by the snarl of the beast underneath me. Deeper he goes, right in with the stallion, and I grit my teeth, feeling my poor tail stretch further than it's ever been, two animals filling me right up. They both start a steady roll, jockeying for position under my canine tail, while the horse gives a whole series of satisfied little grunts and sniffs. Dang it must feel good, having your cock squeezed between a tight tailhole and a firm, black, barbed hyena erection. It sure feels amazing being on the receiving end of it all. I wonder how this could get any better, when Chuck chooses to remind me by dropping his own horse erection onto my nose. He grunts, slapping his cock back up against his belly, leaving it connected to my muzzle by a thick string of precum. I could smell him before, but right now, at close quarters, with his equine fluid tainting my sense of smell... it's no surprise when my own bone slips from its sheath, and rubs against the hyena's trim fur and rock-solid gut. And boy you better believe it felt good. I part my maw a little, and mustang boy spots his opportunity to hold my chin and shunt his erection forward. So what's a man to do? Why, open his maw wide as he can, and take the pony like a sword-swallower at the circus. Surprise surprise, it ain't no time before he's nudging up the back of throat, making me gulp and cutting off my air... and he ain't even halfway in. His medial looms ahead of me, just beyond my nose. But do I want him to stop? Like heck I do. I don't want any of them to stop. Three huge guys, three huge cocks, and hundreds of pounds of heavy musky grunting bucking muscle over me, under me, all around me...

And then the bronc begins to buck. Ahh yeah. That's the stuff. Like you were bred to do.

He's focused, delivering the sharpest and most powerful bucks he can. I'm sure I couldn't stop these animals now, even if I wanted to. Just the sheer power that each of them is putting into their thrusts. And that's even before Marcel plants his hind paws and raises his lower half, effortlessly raising all three of us up, and still having enough power to slam into my rear, quicker and harder than ever. Stallion cock and hyena cock ream into my tail, each of the guys pistoning individually at first, then coordinating their efforts, drilling me with a double thickness of animal cock each and every time. Meantime, I wrap my paws around the lower half of Chuck's length - yeah I need both paws. He's so warm, in my paws and maw, pulsing hard as I slide my maw back and forth over his sensitive head, wrapping my muzzle round him tight, teasing him with the tip of my strong canine tongue. That gets him to nicker, and tense his flanks, buck just that little bit shorter and sharper. His snorts grow longer, his musk deepens, and in my maw I feel his head begin to flare, that monstrous thick veined leathery horse tool filing my muzzle, more and more until it's too much to take, and I pull him from my maw, gasping for air. Immediately the stallion beats himself off, with both hooves, right up until he unleashes the most spectacular cumshot I've ever seen. His flared stallionhood throbs, once. And then... an eruption of stallion semen launches through the air, hitting me square in the face. I close my eyes - I have to - and I feel Chuck unload, his hot horse cum splattering audibly over my back, on the straw around me, on my raised tail... and some of it must have hit Clayton, because right then the bronc picks up the pace, bucking for all he's worth, before drilling right into me with a loud, proud whinny. I feel every pulse, and I can imagine what it looks like, the stallion filling that rubber with his liquid foals. It must feel amazing too, and it briefly crosses my mind that the hyena has been holding back, because that's the moment the predator makes his move, growling beneath me and holding me tight, rubbing my sheath and crotch on his great predatory body, the pleasure getting too much for me before I utter a happy howl, and paint the hyena's stomach with my canine cum. Finally, satisfied that all the boys around him are spent, they hyena powers on to his peak, announcing it with a roar that'd put an alpha lion to shame, and taking a good long time before he slows his thrusts, having no doubt emptied every drop of his yeen cream into me.

It's incredible. I'm surrounded by guys - big, powerful guys, trying their darnedest to catch their breath. I can smell them all, and smell their musk, to say nothing of the mustang cum that's plastered across my face. Some of it is running own my muzzle. I lick it away - it's delicious, all grassy and musky and male. I'm ready to lie there for as long as I can, when I hear the hyena laugh beneath me.

"Well, boys, what do you say? Did our friend Bucker last the whole ride?"

Chuck joins in the laughter. "Yeah...I say he did."

"I agree," Clayton adds. "And you know what? Make that 90 score a 100."

Thanks guys. I'll see y'all at the next rodeo.

By Ziegenbock